


Magical Mystery Game Night

by tea_petty



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dinner Party, Gen, Mystery, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 21:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20937110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Asra and Jenna get a strange invitation one day.





	Magical Mystery Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty for @aoi-hina, featuring her apprentice.

It had been slid under the front door of the shop, so quietly, that Jenna had to assume both she and Asra had been home when it came; one piece of elegant parchment, sealed with a bright crimson seal, artfully blotted and then stamped with an official seal.

This stood out to Jenna for two reasons; first, Nadia never used an official seal when calling on them these days, and second, it was Lucio’s seal.

Asra, who sat at the cozy table with a steaming mug of tea and a book, looked up when Jenna didn’t immediately return to her spot beside him.

“What is it?” Jenna was still studying the intricate rosettes and embellishments embossed in the wax when he came to stand at her shoulder. “Jenna?” he inquired again.

“Does this…” she held the mail before Asra so he could get a clear view of the seal, “does this mean anything to you?”

She could tell he was equally troubled by this in the deep furrow that weighed on his brow.

“It means that someone at the Palace is pretending to be the Count for the sake of an ill-mannered prank.”

His voice, usually so thin and airy, was piano wire – glinting with steel and yet hard to see before it was already biting into you.

“Unless…” Jenna murmured, she hazarded a look to him, “you don’t think…”

Asra frowned deeply but broke the seal and started to unfold it.

_Treasured Acquaintances!_

Asra and Jenna shot each other a look of mirrored skepticism.

_You are hereby invited to a most splendid dinner at the Palace, where we shall wine, dine, and seek entertainment most divine whilst soaking up the glory of my companionship, now that I have a physical form to behold!_

_This shall take place on the third ascent of the moon from whence you’ve received this special invitation. Arrive at twilight (no sooner, no later!) _

_Dress to impress!_

_Yours excellently,_

_ The Count_

“Is this even possible? That it’s _not_ a prank?” Jenna asked with a thoughtful look on her face.

The last time she’d met with the Count in person, she and Asra were tricking him out of a body. Had he found another _benefactor_ since?

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

-

The palace shined even as night fell, or perhaps, Jenna thought, more so. The lights placed outside made the white walls pearlescent, putting even the glow of the moon to shame. She and Asra climbed the front steps, keeping watch for anyone else who might be possibly answering the invitation of the alleged Count. 

Their nerves, that had toed the brink of sanity more and more precariously the higher they climbed, was finally tempered when they arrived at the vast dining hall, where there were but three seats left, and a table full of familiar eyes turned towards them.

“We’re late,” Jenna whispered, as a gold-plated palace guard lead them to the two empty seats sitting adjacent at the mid-section of the table.

“Not completely,” Asra murmured back, his eyes fixed on the head of the table, which was still empty. 

Nadia bookended the other side of the table, which did little to appease their fears.

Asra pulled out one of the chairs for Jenna, before taking his own seat, right beside her. It did not escape their notice that Portia attended as a guest, and not as the help. Jenna’s eyes swept over the length of the table, taking attendance; beside Portia was her unruly brother, looking as uneasy as Asra, - leagues more than his sister who was digging into the savory meat. Between Nadia and Asra, Muriel sat, his discomfort emphasized by his staggering bulk at the table. He seemed to brood more intensely than usual, and Jenna felt like he looked how she felt. She cast a weary glance towards the empty seat on her other side – what rendered theirs a headless table.

“Please; eat, enjoy. There’s no shortage of delicacies here,” Nadia spoke with a warm smile, though it never touched her voice nor her eyes.

Portia was the only one who continued eating, as the rest of them filled their plates, and pushed it around. Upon noticing how scantily her brother ate, Portia seemed to slow down to, shifting her eyes back and forth as if just now trying to gauge the danger everyone else seemed to be waiting for with bated breath. As it passed over her, Jenna could see her own uncertainty reflected back to her through those limpid eyes.

She felt a vacuumed tightness in her chest, and that’s when the footsteps sounded from outside the doorway, she and Asra had just come through.

Six heads turned, and as the dangerous looking eyes, dressed in black, and the glint of gold like a wolf flashing its yellowed teeth, Jenna could see that no one was surprised; just reaffirmed in their dread.

“Welcome all!” Lucio called, his mouth splitting into a broad smile, “And thank you for attending my banquet.”

He swept his arms out into a mighty flourish, and Jenna could tell that Nadia looked the least impressed out of all of them. The terseness at the table didn’t go unnoticed by Lucio; or else, perhaps he’d practiced his speech beforehand, for when he spoke again, his voice was dressed in remorse that seemed tacky on him.

“I know, I know – some of you may have received this invitation and thought it to be in poor taste. Others of you, may simply have just not forgiven me yet.”

Jenna had never sensed such strong consensus among a group of people. All six of them exchanged looks as Lucio pressed on.

“But fear not! I have, turned over a new leaf, as they say. This dinner stands as a symbol and testament to that.”

He took his seat beside Jenna, and she stifled the urge to flinch the best she could, though her hand still twitched slightly. Both Lucio’s and Asra’s eyes caught the small movement, and Jenna was hasty in grabbing her chalice to take a long drink. She felt Lucio’s eyes linger on her, and after some deliberation, she decided she’d rather take her chance draining her cup of wine, rather than face him at that moment. From her other side, Asra glared daggers at him.

Perhaps even more wine would be in order before the evening ended.

Lucio had filled his own cup by now and was raising it in his good hand.

“Now, to commemorate the start of a prospering, and _peaceful_ –“ the word sounded like a sneer, “future, let’s have a toast. To long life –“

“Really, too long a life,” Portia muttered into the rim of her own chalice, and Julian elbowed her in the ribs.

“- and good companions to share it with.” Lucio finished.

A few titters could be heard, though none that Jenna could pick out, and just as well. She’d already decided to play obediently the moment Lucio had taken the seat beside her.

“Cheers,” she muttered, and waited until she saw everyone else take a sip of their drink, before she started again.

Warmth trickled through her, and her head started to swim faintly, treading in the turbulent memories that this night seemed to call upon.

As the glasses came to rest at the table again, Lucio seemed to be finished saying his piece, and took up his silverware to sup. The lone clinking of his tableware punctuated the weighty silence, and then after a few minutes, the same silvering sound reached Jenna’s ear from the other side. Portia had started eating again too.

Then Julian.

Nadia.

Eventually, even Asra tentatively took in a mouthful of roasted skink.

Jenna felt herself relax upon seeing Asra start to eat; she supposed there wasn’t any harm then…or at least not much of one.

Or an immediate one.

Jenna pushed the intrusive thoughts to the back of her head, determined now to shake the trepidation she and all of Vesuvia had been living in since the plague times. 

The meat was so tender it practically melted in her mouth, the wine so sweet, it slid down her throat like silk.

A quiet murmuring had settled around the table; quiet, intimate conversations between everyone broken up into groups of twos and threes. Jenna noticed that Lucio spoke to no one, though he looked contented enough. 

“Count Lucio,” Jenna called softly, ignoring the prickling of the hairs at the back of her neck where Asra’s eyes no doubt fixed upon.

Lucio looked up and grinned broadly. His usual bluster was in it, though it felt more innocent than it had prior to his first death. Now Jenna felt like she was looking at a small child, happy to be amongst friends, and honored to have been chosen for companionship.

“Yes, dear Jenna?”

At the sound of his voice, the idle chatter subdued from around them, though Jenna pretended not to notice.

“I…”

He watched her expectantly, as did everyone else at the table. She wanted to ask him when he came back; _why_ he came back, and she could tell by way she heated under everyone’s scrutiny that everyone else seemed to want to know this as well. However, she looked at Lucio, and despite her better judgement, she couldn’t bring herself to dredge up his messy, turbulent history.

“I wanted to know about your uh, tattoos,” Jenna blurted.

She could feel the quiet shock from all around, and even Lucio himself blinked dazedly at her.

“My…tattoos?”

“Yeah,” Jenna said awkwardly, “the…uh,” she used two fingers from both hands to gesture to where her cheekbones melted into the corners of her eyes, “you know. Morga has them too, so I was wondering…why?” She thought it looked sort of cattish, and she didn’t know if the mention of his mother would perhaps be a sore spot with him, but Lucio seemed to know what she meant well enough, and if she had reopened an old wound, he never bellyached.

“They were a custom of our tribe. Warriors had them inked into their skin,” he beamed proudly, leaning forward to rest his chin at his hand as if to model them properly.

“Wasn’t everyone a warrior where you came from?”

He flashed his teeth in a gesture that was barely docile enough to pass for a smile.

“Exactly.”

“How many do you have then?” Jenna asked, innocently enough.

Lucio winked.

“Quite a few others in a variety of places – though none of them appropriate for dinner conversation.”

“Quite right,” Nadia called from across the table, her face impassive.

The table was stunned for the split second at the rare interaction between the Count and Countess, before Portia erupted into a fit of giggles, and then the tension melted away like frost on the first warm day of the year.

The conversation flowed more easily after that, as did the wine, and soon, the conversation was not a low ebb and wane, like the tides, but the lively, swashing waves of open sea.

Jenna smiled a little, when she noticed even Lucio, was not to be left out, albeit Asra and Muriel certainly kept their distance.

The ease with which the night had slipped into had been so seamless, that Jenna could scarcely recall their fears of everything going wrong. That is, until suddenly, it did, rearing up again with a vengeance.

The lights extinguished without so much as a warning flicker, and despite the modest, intimate crowd that had assembled for dinner, the shocked gasps, and alarmed voices were still as evident as if there were people packed into the room. Jenna felt Asra’s hand shoot out from her left and grab her wrist in a viselike grip.

“_Asra_?” Jenna hissed into the dark.

“I’m here,” his voice was quiet, low, but heavier than she was used to. “Don’t worry Jenna, I’m here.”

The dark played loose and fast for a few more painful moments, the lights occasionally flickering to reveal the faces of Jenna’s friends, gaunt and hallowed like despairing ghosts. Someone screamed but it was impossible to discern who. Then, as abruptly as it fell, the darkness lifted, and the lights resumed their regal glow.

A goblet of wine had been knocked over, spilling the spiced drink into a growing crimson puddle that threatened to wet Jenna’s dress. She scooted away. Everyone’s faces were terse, Asra’s usual airy demeanor had been pressed into terse creases, and the knuckles of Nadia’s hands had whitened under the force with which her grip clamped down on the edge of the table.

Uneasy but seemingly unharmed, Jenna swept her gaze around the circle of friends – relief was still tentative to settle about her though. Something seemed off. Unbalanced. 

Asra’s presence beside her was anchoring and vaguely reassuring (or at least as much as one hoped to be given the circumstances) but the other side felt naked. Vulnerable.

The realization that struck Jenna next was gutting.

The circle had been strangely quiet since the lights had come on again.

“Where’s Lucio?” Jenna asked hoarsely.

Several pairs of eyes flicked about the vast dining hall, but no one answered, especially not the Count himself.

“He’s gone,” Muriel said, and the flatness in his voice seemed to suggest that it wasn’t necessarily a predicament. 

“Do we go home now?”

Jenna shot Asra a look.

“Not until we’ve found him of course.”

All eyes snapped back to Jenna.

“Surely Lucio can fend for himself, given his…ah, _background_,” Julian ventured, and Jenna frowned.

“It seems like everyone’s been pretty stuck on that background tonight,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically dour. “Look, I’m not saying he hasn’t done terrible things but-“ her cheeks flushed. She felt foolish now. She’d been dead or absent for Lucio’s worst transgressions. She took carefully to not meeting Muriel’s eyes. “but he really seems like he’s trying for a chance at redemption, and…it would be a waste if he was really capable of it, and never got the chance to because we let it slip through out fingers,” she finished quietly.

The silence that met Jenna’s little speech seemed to crackle with unspoken tension, but eventually someone had to break it, and who better than Jenna’s fiercest protector.

“Oh, I suppose…she’s right,” Asra relented, his brows furrowed. “And even if he doesn’t change, there’s no reason why we have to stoop to his level.”

“Very true,” Nadia nodded curtly, “then it is decided. We will search for the Count.”

“We should split up,” Portia added, “the Palace is pretty big, and we’d cover ground faster that way.”

“Good idea Portia,” Nadia nodded to her most trusted companion with a nod of approval. 

However, beside her, Julian seemed to wilt.

By the time they’d broken off and began their search into the different wings of the palace, the three groups comprised of Muriel and Portia, who headed towards the gardens where the hedge maze was, Julian and the Countess, who made off towards the bath house and facilities, and of course, Asra and Jenna who were left to the residential wing. 

They headed off into a well-furnished, at the present, well-lit corridor with their hands joined. The carpet was so plush beneath their feet, their footsteps seemed to be punctuated by an instance in which they sunk slightly, before they could pick up each foot again, and proceed.

In the space of wall between the ornate light fixtures, grandiose oil paintings depicting various still lives hung. Bowls of fruit, vases of flowers, and barely used vanities beside beaming windows alluded to happier times.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Then, in one moment, Asra’s lips parted, and Jenna felt a resistant, gentle tugging at her hand. She stopped, waiting for him to speak, and then where words should have been, the distant, far away click of a door latching shut sounded in the distance.

The entire hallway seemed to drop in temperature, as if the noise had startled the remaining warmth away. 

Jenna’s eyes flicked sideways to Asra at the same time his did, her. Evidently, they’d been thinking the same thing; that the last time they’d felt such a thing, was when Lucio was but a phantom, plotting and scheming his way to a body to snatch.

A skittering, thumped sound came in the direction the latch sound had; though much closer now. 

Jenna felt her muscles tense like strings pulled her taut. Asra hadn’t budged either.

The thudding continued, and as they waited with agonizing trepidation for the final distance to be closed, Jenna had to remind herself that there was in fact, something at the end of the noises – that it was not just the rampant drumming of her heart, attempting escape on its own since she certainly wasn’t.

A door no more than a few feet away flew open suddenly, the ornate brass handle smacking into the wall and threatening to cut into the fancy wallpaper. Portia emerged from the darkened room, eyes bright with the flood of recent memories replaying in her head, and a few loose twigs and leaves protruding from her wild, red curls.

“Portia!”

Jenna and Asra went to her. Upon looking her over, they found no visible harm had come to her, though something _had_ happened, and it looked to be at the tip of her tongue as she batted their fussing hands away.

“Where’s Muriel?” Asra asked, his brow furrowing.

“He’s –“ Portia paused to catch her breath, “Gone.”

“Gone?”

“Disappeared. _Kapoof_!” Portia made a somewhat explosive gesture with her hands. “He was right behind me too, which is what was so _weird_ about it. I was going to stay and look for him, but I…” For the first time since talking about whatever had transpired, Portia’s words slowed, treading as carefully as she must’ve in that passed moment. “I heard something…maybe saw a…a _glimpse _of something else.”

“A glimpse of what?” Asra asked, his hand reached up to his jaw, which was clenched rather tightly.

“I don’t know, I was so scared by it that I took off running until I found you guys again.”

“And it’s a good thing you did,” Jenna reassured, knowing Asra hadn’t any better idea of what it could’ve been than Portia did, even if he was with his suspicions. It would do no one any good to monger fear on tall tales. “You ought to stay with us and search; strength in numbers and all that.”

A visible look of relief swept over Portia, and then the trio was off again, roaming the corridors, and occasionally calling out Lucio’s name. It reminded Jenna a lot of Asra’s and hers investigation into his murder only months before. It took her a moment to remember that they were looking for him in preservation, and not post-mortem each time she took it upon herself to call out for the Count.

When they reached the end of the long corridor that comprised the majority of the residential wing, Portia stepped forward, past where Asra and Jenna had halted.

“Why’d you stop? Don’t you two remember the secret passage?”

Her pale fingers splay to flatten against a particular spot at the wall, but instead of pressing flat, they sunk through, like the wall they were looking at had ceased to exist past its appearance. Portia kept her hand in the illusionary spot, as if holding open the veil of reality for them to step through. Asra and Jenna did, shuffling to a stop a few paces through to where the same corridor seemed to branch, albeit darker and danker. The temperature seemed to drop like a pin; without a hint until it was already so far gone, neither of them could have a hope to find the previous prevailing warmth.

“Portia?” Jenna called out, whirling around to face where’d they’d come.

The section of the wall that served as the passage seemed to function much like a one-way window; the former glory of the corridor they’d come from was still quite visible, save for Portia, who decidedly wasn’t.

Jenna poked her head through, already feeling a tight gnawing in her gut in anticipation of the absence of their friend.

“What, she’s not there?” Asra called from behind as Jenna swiveled her head back and forth to check both ends.

No sign of the wily red head.

“_Portia_!” Jenna hissed.

No one was residing here currently, as Jenna came to understand it, though something; be it the knowingness of eyes at her back, or the prickling of hairs at the back of her neck, seemed to keep her from calling out in full volume.

“Jenna,” Asra called through the veil, his voice still at the surface but hiding great trepidation in its depths, “it’s okay; maybe she ran off to find Nadia.”

“Sure, yeah, okay.”

Jenna nodded faintly, returning to Asra on what she considered to be the wrong side of the secret passage; it was cold and dark here. If the Count were truly turning a new leaf like he said, wouldn’t he have stayed as far away from the place of his schemed and enacted evils, as possible? Nonsense, Jenna mentally kicked herself, the Count had been taken. If he was to get better, she’d have to start trusting him; they all would. 

Surely, they wouldn’t have been out here looking for him if they hadn’t at least believed that much?

Their feet thudded dully against the gray tile, and the few paintings they passed here usually had great furrows slashed across, the canvases peeling from their formerly wonderful frames. For a moment, Jenna imagined what sort of being could’ve made such large gashes in one fell swoop, but she banished the thought as quickly as she could.

Asra walked on a few paces ahead, beelining to a light fixture and giving it a sharp pull to the left. Jenna followed closely, not wanting to be left alone here just as the wall opened up below the sconce, tile and brick falling away and into an array of small, winding steps.

“I doubt we’ll find him here, and I’m guessing neither of us want to spend any more time than needed here,” his eyes flicked to the whirling darkness behind them, shrouding the continued stretch of the corridor that they hadn’t gotten to check yet.

“Good idea,”

Asra waited for Jenna to go first, before following her up the steps. They were steeper than she remembered, the curvature being so severe that if she glanced back, she couldn’t see her companion follow. Really, the only indication that he was following was the sound of his footsteps, though the creases between bricks seemed to catch these noises before they reached her ears as well.

Jenna felt herself relax as she stepped through the wooden door at the top, and into a bath of warm light.

“Asra,” she called, feeling a bit more like herself now that she was out of the dark.

She turned and looked expectantly at the door she just came through. A few minutes passed, and nothing happened.

“Asra?” she called again.

_Now is when you step through_, she thought, feeling the words sharpen in her growing hysteria, _now is when you show up_.

The door remained unconceivably still.

“Asra!” Jenna called more loudly, and then she started, the sound of her voice scaring her. “ASRA!”

“Jenna?”

The answering voice was not the one she wanted to hear, but she spun on her heel none the less, which brought her before the good Doctor Devorak and the Countess herself.

“Julian, Nadia,” Jenna breathed, feeling her voice wobble and the hot wetness at her eyes threaten to spill over.

Julian looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it, settling for letting his gaze fall respectfully to his toes. Nadia on the other hand, stepped forward to wrap her arms around Jenna, and brought her into a warm embrace.

“Are you alright? Where’s Asra?”

Her voice was anchoring. Steady and thankfully, just as warm as the hug.

“He’s…” the quiver in Jenna’s voice seemed to transfer to her body, and Nadia squeezed tighter.

“We’ll find him, “she soothed, “don’t you worry a thing about it. Doctor Devorak, perhaps you could go fetch Jenna a glass of water? It’s been a terribly long night,” she added, and Julian perked up at the opportunity to be of some use.

“Right away,” he turned to Jenna, “I’ll find you the best damned glass of water that’s ever existed.” He winked in a way that could only allow Jenna to roll her eyes in response, but she was grateful for the levity. The night had been short on that yet.

Julian disappeared out the door, and as it clicked softly shut, Nadia smoothed her hands comfortingly down Jenna’s arms, urging her into one of the plush seats in the room.

The initial reassurance of the gesture faded in the twenty minutes that came to pass, in which Julian did not return.

Finally, Nadia spoke again.

“I know it’s unbecoming to gloat,” she started, her face grace itself as her eyes fell shut. This was the only indicator that Nadia was giving everything she had to keep herself calm. “but I _knew_ this was a setup.”

Jenna stiffened at this claim. If Asra were to burst into the room, or Julian, or anybody, please gods, let it be _now_.

“If there’s anything you learn from being married to someone, it’s their flare for dramatics, and Lucio has plenty to spare,” she continued, “make note of this, dear Jenna,” she added, as if Jenna were not already pulled taut with the intensity with which she were listening.

“I don’t know how he did it, and I don’t know why, but he _did_ do it, mark my words,” she finished, with a sharp look to the side, as if Lucio had planned the night to the point at which this conversation too, had been a mere step towards his final grand charade.

Nadia went to the door, sighing heavily, and Jenna rose to follow. She noticed that the Countess didn’t bother searching as she strode confidently out into the corridor, turning expertly down a path that eventually lead them back into the dank, desolate halls of Lucio’s old wing.

“Where are we going?” Jenna whispered, careful to stay close to the other woman.

“To the only place left that we haven’t searched – and where Lucio is undoubtedly to be.”

Jenna followed Nadia blindly, and if she could have, she would’ve held her breath in anticipation to see if the Countess was indeed right. The path they took; into Lucio’s old quarters, through the painting, down the serpentine staircase; it was all too reminiscent of the horrors Lucio had just been apologizing for, no more than an hour before. 

As worn brick gave way to warm, happy light - a shock after the grim shadowed corridor they’d taken – Jenna found herself looking on the same long dinner table she had when she and Asra had wandered in late the night of the Masquerade. This time though, instead of the major Arcana, there was just their small circle.

“You found us!”

At the head of the table, of course, was Lucio, completely unharmed, and with a jovial grin that was shared by no one else. Beside him, Muriel sat, looking almost gargoylesque in his somberness. He, Jenna thought, got points just for tolerating the Count at such proximity.

Next to Muriel, sat Portia, who uncharacteristically enough was silent, and sitting rigidly as if she were bound. Upon further inspection, Jenna spotted the younger Devorak sitting on her hands. 

The figure opposite of Lucio was Asra, much to Jenna’s relief, looking thoroughly irritated, but unharmed all the same. She went to join him, and his prickly expression broke just long enough for him to press a sweet kiss to her cheek and gather her in his arms.

“Jenna,” the warmth in his voice seeped into his smile just the tiniest bit. “My love, are you alright?”

“Never better,” she whispered into his ear, before nuzzling her nose against it. 

He pulled her tight against his lap, as if afraid Lucio might whisk her away with a wave of his hand.

Beside them, was Julian, who looked the least bothered by all of this, and that was including the frown embossed at his lips.

Finally, Nadia took her place beside Julian; the last remaining seat, which unfortunately for her, was beside her ex-husband. Jenna noticed the slightest moment of hesitation as she pulled the chair out, as if she had half a mind to sit on the floor instead.

“How did you guys enjoy the little game I planned?” Lucio asked, still ever cheerful.

“Game? That was a game?” Jenna deadpanned; one eyebrow cocked to an almost lethal degree. “That sucked. That was _terrible_, how was that supposed to be a game?”

Lucio blinked at her uncomprehendingly, as if she’d just sprouted a second head.

“You…didn’t get it?”

Everyone else had settled into a tolerant silence, though no one piped up to assert their understanding either.

“Isn’t this what the small folk do at dinner parties?”

A confused ‘_Huh?_’ left Jenna’s lips the same time an indignant ‘_Smallfolk?!_’ left Portia’s.

“You know,” Lucio’s prosthetic arm snapped two perfect, golden fingers together, as if the sound might lurch their memories into motion. “Murder mysteries and stuff? Games? Team building?”

“Uh, not that I’m protesting this part, but sir – nobody was murdered tonight,” Julian intercepted more quietly and significantly less smug than usual.

“Well of course nobody was murdered, it was a game!”

Muriel and Asra both shot Lucio looks that might’ve wilted the exotic, vibrant blooms in the palace gardens, had they not been tucked so neatly into the bowels of the gargantuan building.

“And uh, forgive me, m’lord, but the wandering around aimlessly sort of killed the mystery,” Portia said, not sounding at all like she was seeking forgiveness.

“Not to mention, the lack of team building,” Nadia added, crossing her arms primly.

She regarded her ex-husband with perhaps the most bored expression of them all.

Lucio’s mouth opened as if he were going to say something, before it snapped shut again, screwing up into a discontented pout that was all too reminiscent of his tantrums before his dealings with the devil. Most everyone at the table seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for him to throw a goblet of wine, or maybe have someone thrown into a jail cell, like old times.

Instead, he just seemed to wind up more tightly into himself, like a spring. Well, he’d have to release all that tension at some point. Decidedly, Asra and Jenna would not be part of it, it seemed, as the former pushed away from the table, prompting Jenna to rise to her feet.

“Well, that’s enough for one day I think,” Asra said, and Jenna could tell her partner was being as polite as he could manage in that moment.

“Yes, yes, it’s getting late, and I think we’re all a bit tired. Thank you, Count Lucio, for the, _ah_, game,” she said hastily, trying to give her lover time to simmer down.

Grabbing her hand, he threaded his fingers through hers, tugging her gently in the direction of the stairs leading back up to the main corridors of the palace. At the table, everyone else began to disperse too, in ripples of mutters in varying degrees of dissatisfaction. 

“Come Portia, let us retire for the evening.” Nadia turned to Muriel as she stood, “If you are in need of a personal quarters for the evening, please let us know – you’re always welcome here.”

Muriel’s mouth pressed into a firm line, and Jenna knew that he’d sooner sleep at the wharf again, than under the same roof as the Count. Still though, he maintained his quiet reverence when he responded. 

“That’s alright.”

Lucio’s pout deepened somehow as everyone retreated for the night, and Jenna glimpsed him crossing his arms hard over his chest as he remained the last one at the table.

“Well, fine - good night to you lot! But I expect better attitudes at the next one!”


End file.
